


Preeminent Death

by indi_indecisive



Category: Game of Thrones (Video Game 2014)
Genre: Animal Instincts, Body Horror, Character Death, Corpse Desecration, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indi_indecisive/pseuds/indi_indecisive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps, though it is a faulty conclusion at best, Asher Forrester’s death provided the preeminent support in this war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preeminent Death

He is slumped to the side, his body unmoving, and there is nothing to suggest he lived save for the faint rise and fall of his chest; which in time would shortly falter, his breathing would become erratic, and then a final sputtering cough of life. Soon after, there would never be a gentle rise, no subtle suggestion that he was conscious let alone alive.

Within minutes, his lips would fade blue, sun-burnt skin would became pale and to a far greater extent they would see the full damage the weather there had done to him; each strip of damaged tissue exaggerated by sickly colors and mattered yellows. Then his body would become stiff, and the blood which stained him would contrast against the natural blues.

Within hours ravens would flock to his body, among other animals later drawn to the commotion of the birds caws. Relentlessly they would fight over the delicious morsel of his eyes, and it would be the smallest two ravens to jab her beak into them; pulling back, violently shaking their heads back and forth to rip them free. Together they would gobble it up, savoring, to the extent a bird can savor, the sensation of salted eyes down their gullets. Once more they would fight, pecking and ripping free his flesh with no mercy; naught single consideration of knowledge who this man had been.

He was food now, and those creatures would likely devour his body until a larger predator came. First, it had been a cat to chase away the birds, it had intended to catch one for a meal but had failed in its task. The cat did not care, it’s options were limited as the cold weather swept across the land, its teeth ripping apart the finer flesh of the human’s stomach. The cat had hardly its fill when a dog was to chase it away, who would then proceed to rip away at his legs. There was more meat on the corpses bones when the dog ran, certainly, but the loud footsteps of men had startled him to abandon the mean.

Within an hour, men had proved themselves to be worse than the animals previous. An interesting assortment of defilement had been done; knives cut his hair and beard, a patchwork of skin and hair. Piss soaked in clothes, and would keep the remaining hair flat against his skull. Piss overpowered the rising stench of rotting meat and metal, but it would not be long until it didn’t, perfect timing for arriving home. To these men, this corpse was nothing it was meant to be pointed and laughed at before they continued with their duties. By command, they dragged what was left to the corpse cart to be sent home.

Within a day his mother would see his corpse and she would turn herself away and gasp; filled with rage, she would argue to seek word with the man who allowed her son to be defiled like this. She was a protector, and when she spoke he would quiver at her voice. A line had been crossed and she would see herself dead than another of her children defiled. Lady Forrester would bow her head no longer, she would cry in her room in secret.

The eldest brother would cry, and would take hold of his brothers hand and kiss it. He would be sad, and angry, but ultimately regret deeply his decisions. Every ounce of strength would be pushed towards fighting, and each night he would be awoken countless times by the disgusting, melting features of his brothers face. Rodrik Forrester would not smile again for many weeks even with her besides him.

Their youngest sister would cry out, she would pound her fists against his eaten chest until she was pulled back and held close by an armored chest. She would cry and pound again, she would yell words a lady should never speak, and another piece of her would shatter. It would not be long before she switched countless times her views, blaming the corpse more than the enemy, than the enemy more than the corpse. Talia Forrester would take a vow of silence after the burial, and it would take many months for her to speak out again and even then it had been only his favorite song.

It would take weeks for the eldest sister to find time to read the letter, she had been closer to him than them all, but busy to save her family it was trialing to read what her mother had sent. To hear of his depart, she would become colder, and calculated in a way she never dared to think for him. She would fear her death, yes, and the description of what had been done to him would dance along her closed eyelids, in the flames of each fire. Yet she vowed never to be cruel or to forget what he had written her. Mira Forrest would have the coin melded to a ring, which she would never take off, and wearing it she would smack Lord Andros hard across the face.

Fewer now though considerably stronger than before, bonds which had been broken seemed mended overnight, and unanimously there seemed a solemn vow taken; leave no Whitehill alive. Perhaps, though it is a faulty conclusion at best, Asher Forrester’s death provided the preeminent support in this war.

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so Royland is mentioned holding Talia back just for clarification. I am not sorry.


End file.
